


How I Have Waited for You

by monstermashrequiem



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, BAMF Sigyn (Marvel), Childhood Friends, F/M, Flirting, Getting Together, Jötnar | Jotuns | Frost Giants (Norse Religion & Lore), Magic, Mixed Norse Mythology & Marvel Elements, Nobility, Parent Loki, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Starting Over, Vanir (Norse Religion & Lore), Æsir (Norse Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26164753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstermashrequiem/pseuds/monstermashrequiem
Summary: “Loki, the Most Unfailingly Honest Prince of Ásgard,” Sigyn mocked, “I have infinite reasons to believe your words.”--Aging more slowly than Midgardians does not mean the passage of time does not still hurt. Prince Loki returns after many distant wars and a failed marriage to a giantess. His flirting makes his intentions clear: he means to court Lady Sigyn, the magician. She has, after all, been the only one to show this level of care for him and his children. (And much to the confusion of her friends, she has always considered Loki the more desirable prince).Thankfully, the spark they once had is not gone...
Relationships: Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Loki/Sigyn (Norse Religion & Lore), Sigyn & Loki's Children (Norse Religion & Lore)
Kudos: 15





	How I Have Waited for You

**Author's Note:**

> -Takes place in a blended universe, where basically I take elements of MCU I like and elements of Prose & Poetic Edda I like and make this.  
> -Ás and Ásynja (gods and goddesses of Ásgard) as well as the Vanir age slowly and spend most of their life cycle in the adult phase of life  
> -Hinted that Loki is also a hidden jötun who was adopted (as in MCU)  
> -Written November 2013 & found in a deep folder :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Comments/kudos are much appreciated.

Warm yellow lights shone through the stained glass windows of the castle library, and the Midsummer feast had tempted Sif and Sjöfn out of the library and down to the main court. Though Sigyn generally enjoyed their company, she wanted the opportunity to be alone in the library whilst everyone was at the feast. At last, when she was alone, she lifted her grimoire up in perfect vertical motion to begin her spell. Though the concept of the spell was simple, to open closed objects, the greatest form of the spell had taken two months’ practice. The castle library in which Sigyn frequently studied turned out to be the best place to practice this particular spell, for it had at least five thousand books to open.

Sigyn regulated her breathing and drew her hands to the edges of her grimoire’s cover. She drew a significant amount of energy to her hands and slid them out from underneath of her grimoire. As it floated before her, Sigyn released the magic that she had sealed within the open page and distributed it to all of the edges of the library.

Without the book’s sealed magic, the spell would be impossible at this scale. Most other magicians disliked carrying a grimoire laden with heavy energy around, but Sigyn found it to be a wise action, for her spells could be more powerful. With all of the magic in place, Sigyn quickly crossed her hands before throwing her arms outward and mentally directing the magic to open everything in the library.

Suddenly, all of the books floated out of their places on the ceiling-high shelves, and, still in the air, each opened to the middle page. Every stained glass window creaked open and the age-old dust cascaded to the library’s dark wood floor, making a dirty blanket next to the outer wall and letting in the sounds of festivity from the joyful gatherings below. Even the pair of mighty brazen doors of the library opened under this magic. As Sigyn was rejoicing at her success, she spotted a fellow magician attempting to steal away from the now open doors.

“Hello, Prince Loki,” Sigyn called happily.

The prince ambled back to the doorway.

“Lady Sigyn, how do you do?” he muttered.

“Come now, I have not seen you these past four months, and that is the best greeting you give to me? Look, I’ve revealed the entire library to my eyes.”

A small smile grew on Loki’s face and he approached his former study partner.

“Has it only been four months since we have left my mother’s teaching? And you have made such impressive magic in that time.”

“Your recognition is much appreciated,” Sigyn laughed.

When the two were studying magic, the prince rarely complimented her skill. If she was beneath his ability, he would tease her; if she was above his ability, he would make a rivalry out of their studies.

“It is a shame that you are cheating, though,” Loki said smoothly.

“Cheating! Prince Loki, the use of a grimoire is not cheating. It allows for far more potent external magic. And the energy contained in this book is my own! One must take ready provisions on a journey, not mere seeds,” Sigyn replied fervently.

“Fine, fine,” Loki said, sitting in Sigyn’s seat. “I do hope that you know how to close everything. You’ve made an awful mess of the library.”

“You take me for a fool,” Sigyn said as she repeated the spell in reverse.

The books returned to their shelves with echoing thuds, and the windows struggled against their age to close again. The brass doors made the most ruckus, then the library was quiet once more.

“You are missing the grand feast,” Sigyn commented.

“It is grand as size goes, not entertainment,” Loki sighed.

“In our minds, at least,” Sigyn said and took the seat parallel from the one Loki had stolen. “Where ever have you been?”

“My brother has been taking me along on his martial endeavors. I have not had peace since we completed our apprenticeship,” Loki explained.

“Yet I have seen the Lady Sif,” pestered Sigyn.

“Lady Sif is much more social. When I am not with the squadrons, I study governance.”

“Ah, that is more than Prince Thor can say.”

“Yes. I fear his goals in the field will prevent him from achieving his goals in the kingdom.”

“Then you have had much field practice in addition to that knowledge of government. Prince Thor is making a grave mistake by celebrating after each battle instead of expanding his skills.”

“I agree.”

“Regrettably, my skill is limited by the fact that I have only preformed in controlled settings,” grumbled Sigyn as she was reminded that she was in a complimentary predicament.

“The battlefield is not a place you want to see, Lady Sigyn,” Loki insisted. “And if you are not decapitating four-hundred ton monsters, your actions are hardly appreciated.”

“How like your brother. Still, I desire to master this art of magic, a task I cannot complete without entering battle. Yet that would mean appealing to the King.”

“Good luck,” Loki smirked.

Sigyn wondered how she was going to ask the king if she could start entering battles. Knowing him, she would have to have several good reasons and would probably have to perform against somebody already appointed. In no way did she want to become a permanent member of the Ásgardian Army; her goal was to develop skills in enemy land so that she may defend Ásgard at home in the larger wars which were to come. Sigyn did not truly believe in war. Her father was a vanr and had raised her under his peace-loving principles. Sigyn, however, interpreted that sometimes wars are necessary for a greater peace. She would be comfortable defending her land, but not destroying the lands of others.

“Did I discourage you?” Loki drawled.

“No, not at all,” Sigyn answered.

“You look rather discouraged.”

“I am not.”

Loki smacked his hand on the desk as though he had settled a meeting and stood from his seat.

“Are you finished rehearsing spells for tonight?” he asked.

“I planned to do at least four more,” Sigyn said.

“I planned otherwise.”

“Pardon?”

“Did you not ask me where I have been recently? If you cease rehearsing this night, I will show you where.”

“You must learn to be more specific, Sir.”

“That would take away my intrigue.”

Sigyn smiled. Leaving home for battle had hardly changed Loki. As she stood, he took her arm, leading her out of the warm library and into the draughty halls.

“Tell me how you have missed me, Lady Sigyn,” Loki persuaded.

“Oh, truly I have missed my books turning up in various places round the court,” Sigyn returned. “Or suddenly discovering that all my gloves are left-handed.”

“Is that the only impression I have left on you after all those years?”

“No, Sir. I have also greatly missed my meals freezing right on my dishes. And I have missed you taking the magic out of my grimoire rather than creating a grimoire of your own. I have certainly missed pretending not to know a thing about the endless pranks you played on your good brother when he would ask me.”

“You surely are making satire,” Loki laughed.

“In part, yes. Not wholly.”

“But you must have missed our walks through the city on our respites from work.”

“You mean the half-hour breaks that always stretched to one hour? You made me lose time even more than when I attended the luncheon feasts.”

“You never complained.”

“Well, I admit I have missed those greatly,” Sigyn sighed.

“And you have missed practicing magic with me?” Loki continued.

“I have.”

“My absence must have left a _great_ void,” Loki declaimed. “Your absence has not left quite as large of a void for me.”

“Excuse me?” Sigyn gasped at the blatant insult.

“Hah! In contrast, it has caused me to think of you even more often,” he reconciled. “No thought of you leaves me feeling empty.”

“You flatter me upon our reunion,” Sigyn said, “but tomorrow shall I expect you to belittle my progress and freeze my dinner?”

“No, I am honest, Lady Sigyn.”

“Loki, the Most Unfailingly Honest Prince of Ásgard,” Sigyn mocked, “I have _infinite_ reasons to believe your words.”

Loki quietly took the reproach he deserved. He looked at his companion, whose head was down. Under heavy lids, her eyes watched the floor and safeguarded the secret dreams inside her head. Her lips were pursed into a small, tight smile. She was very quiet, full of thought, and Loki mused what it would be like to read her mind. Perhaps he would find more negative thoughts, or perhaps he would discover that all of her patience, humor, and kindness toward him encircled something ever sweeter. That was what he wished for, but he continued to ground himself on his belief that he was stained in her eyes.

It had been nine years since the end of his disastrous marriage to Angrboda. The marriage had been arranged when he was very young, yet he did not find out about it until one year before the wedding. This had greatly upset him, for he found that he had no interest in the girl, nor any say in the matter whatsoever. Meanwhile, Thor was gently encouraged to marry one of several women who were not unlike him in terms of their aspirations. Odin’s reasoning for this decision was that a wife would “cheer Loki” and “make him a stronger man.” Thor obviously did not need any special treatment.

Angrboda was a tall, insensitive, and preoccupied woman seemingly of very high birth. She showed no interest in Loki as he showed no interest in her. She seemed to be a better match for a warrior in Loki’s opinion, but his words were hushed and the marriage was finalized. The ceremony was attended by over half of Ásgard’s population, who were all astonished when Lofn, the Ásynja of Marriage, publicly refused to acknowledge their union. Odin was displeased with her and nearly stripped her of her title, but Loki found a dark humor in the situation.

In the short marriage of no more than two and one-half years, most of the couple’s time was spent apart, and thankfully so. Loki found himself frequently complaining to Sigyn of Angrboda’s rudeness and haziness, who listened patiently but said few words. Few, few words.

The couple had three children, all who were born with strange and unfortunate characteristics. The first child was not in the womb seventy days before he was born. Not a single person expected anything other than a very small stillborn, yet the child was born alive and weighed generously, albeit he was very ashen-colored. Within a period of less than two hours, the child began to have violent spasms. The nurses reported that everything was under control, that the child was inherently shapeshifting. However, it came to be that the child, named Fenrir, had not reverted back to his normal form from a wolf for an entire night. Fenrir stopped exhibiting ás behavior in this form, and the doctors concluded that he was an uncontrolled shapeshifter, unlike his father, and dubbed him “were-wolf.” Loki, while gravely distressed at his son’s unpredictable transformations, gave the infant Fenrir as normal a life as possible whilst Angrboda wanted nothing to do with the child and demanded that they have another one to make up for it.

Despairingly, their second child, Jörmungandr, had a fate similar to his brother’s. Jörmungandr, born too soon, pale, ashen, and weighing like iron, experienced the same symptoms before revealing himself as an uncontrolled shapeshifter, a serpent. Loki raised the dangerous children with patience and technique so that they may develop somewhat normally despite their frequent lapses of consciousness. He did this alone, for Angrboda was writhe with cruelty toward the children she would not call her own. One final time she insisted for a normal child, and finally bore one. However, this child, not disguised by other ailments, publicized something Angrboda had wished to conceal. The girl, Hela, was born with stunning chalky-blue skin and odd markings on her body. The midwife, Fulla, started panicking and would not let the parents hold the child. However, as Fulla left the room briefly to get Frigga, Angrboda took the child in her arms and foolishly exposed her own nature. As she held Hela, Angrboda’s skin turned the same shade as her child’s. In that moment, Loki realized why Hela was abnormal: her mother was a frost giant. Frigga arrived in the room just as Loki became enraged, and snatching the child from Angrboda, preformed a masterful spell that hid all signs of a jötunn from the baby girl and even lightened her weight.

Angrboda and her family were put on trial. It was determined that her parents were sent to Ásgard to kidnap and take the form of a noble couple, Baldr and Nanna. Angrboda was to marry royal birth in order to undermine the monarchy and disclose information to the frost giants in her homeland. Under normal circumstances, they would have been put to death, but Odin wanted to avoid war with the frost giants at all costs and made a deal to send them back to Jötunheim if Baldr and Nanna were safely returned. Angrboda’s marriage to Loki was terminated to his relief and her indifference.

However, Loki loved his children dearly and would spend every night watching them in awe. When his sons behaved strangely, he treated them with care. Hela cried often, and her eyes occasionally fought off the magical paints and turned red when she was particularly upset. Loki lamented that all three children were half-jötunn. However, they were still _his_. Frigga attempted to ease Loki’s mind, saying that they need not know their origins and that they would grow to be perfectly happy children without such dark knowledge. Loki fervently disagreed –– he believed they had a right to know themselves lest they think something else is wrong with them. They were royalty, he reminded, so no one could hassle them, and they would not be emotionally troubled if they felt they did not conform.

He had discussed this issue with Sigyn, with whom he often had important discussions, and she agreed that it would be in their best interests to know so that they would not be confused. She was the only one besides the queen who had taken the information calmly, when others found the whole ordeal strange, misfortunate, or frightening.

In their final years of studying magic together, Loki took great interest in Sigyn. She more or less was warm toward him from the beginning, though, so if she had any new feelings toward him, they were indiscernible. Loki melancholically daydreamed about her, wishing to marry her. Unlike his last marriage, to marry Sigyn would be of his own will; she was a truly wonderful woman. She was of mild temperament, yet Loki knew she internalized strength so powerful that she would make a queen even greater than his mother. Daughter of a vanr and the late noble Sigtrud, Sigyn had grown up in close proximity to Loki. In the ninety years they had known each other, the two had not grown tired of each other’s senses of humor. They shared enough similar interests, but they were very different personalities. Sigyn had saved Loki from getting into trouble countless times and offered him more support than he could ask for; Loki encouraged and helped the painfully shy Sigyn to work toward her goals and voice her beliefs. Around each other, their negative quirks softened and they truly worked brilliantly. At least Loki thought so. But who would marry a shapeshifter now that the possible consequences to children were known? Loki thought that Sigyn would want a large family of her own with no frightening abnormalities. She would not want to be burdened with Loki’s odd brood. It distressed him. He could not see himself with any other woman, nor could he envision any woman wanting him. And there was that lovely Sigyn, latched right on his arm but unattainable. He only saw failure in his future, but he still was trying, for he had fallen for her. He now feared that the more he tried, the more distrustful she would become. Certainly, she had to know that he wasn’t _entirely_ mischievous.

“What do you think of me?” Loki whispered meditatively, speaking to himself aloud without recognizing it.

“I think you have made us lose our way in this castle, Your Highness,” Sigyn whispered back.

Loki ceased his reflections and studied the surroundings. He had indeed lost the route, but thankfully, he still knew the direction he was going. He did not need to admit his blunder to Sigyn. He took a right turn down the next hallway, which would lead them to the upper rear courtyard.

“We should make our speech at ease from address,” Loki suggested.

“You mean to say I simply call you ‘Loki’ and you call me ‘Sigyn?’ It seems impolite,” Sigyn disagreed.

“We have known each other for our whole age, nearly a century.”

“You and I have known each other the same amount of time that you have known Lady Sif and I have known Prince Thor, and to drop titles with them would be rude.”

“Then what I mean to say is that we have known each other much more personally, so it hardly is improper.”

“You are forward this evening,” remarked Sigyn.

“Perhaps you are just backward,” Loki said indignantly.

Sigyn would have been immensely accepting to this change in their relationship if it had come less suddenly. She and Loki were close since long ago, but it was always in a friendly manner. Only in the past few years had Loki become more indicative of his romantic interest in her; however, because this interest was barely expanding outside of gazes and snappy flirting, Sigyn figured that he was not placing real value on their potential relationship. He had just shown up randomly after four long months and treated her as if he had been courting her properly all that time. Though she would not reveal it to anyone, Sigyn had been in love with Loki even before his marriage. She had dutifully suppressed her thoughts of him after he was married, but found herself very unhappy and bleak-minded. When the marriage was over, she was careful to keep her new hopes from blinding her. She did not want to enter a lifelong marriage with Loki if he kept his pervasive habits of lying, cheating, and playing mind-games. Though he rarely behaved this way toward her, she considered the fact that he probably would do so eventually in their marriage. She wanted her children to have a father who could be their role model and who would not pick fights for the sheer sake of it. Loki was going to need to prove himself with more than words; he was always more sly than he was honest. Sigyn had seen many æsir warriors routinely abandon those naïve enough to lie with them. Loki had certainly spent enough time with the warriors during these recent battles... to think that he might not be interested in her beyond her body! Sigyn wasn’t going to stand for such shallowness.

“Backward, Sir? State your intentions now or I shall leave,” Sigyn demanded, unlacing her arm from Loki’s.

With a bewildered expression on his face, Loki observed the angry woman. In just moments she had become so opposed to his company. He was used to others reacting to him this way, but not sweet Sigyn. Never, never Sigyn. He must have offended her with his sudden affection. It seemed to him natural, yet he called to mind that many loving things he had said to her were merely in vivid daydreams. How much of their time had he dreamt up?

“Forgive me, Lady Sigyn. I had no intention of repulsing you when I spoke those words. I fear I have begun saying things which I have wanted to say for so long without indicating the nature of my speech.”

“Eloquence is not credibility,” Sigyn broke in firmly. Loki was still not going to win her over with his weasely words and softened tones.

“Ah, with you, it isn’t,” Loki chuckled, dropping his formalities. “You know me far too well, as I know you. With that knowledge, I confess, you have my affection, for I cannot know you without admiring you. Am I wrong to do so?”

“No, I have long admired you,” Sigyn admitted. Blush had clearly dyed her face, and she had to fight the shivers in her arms. If it was not for the leftover energy from anger, Sigyn would have hardly been able to speak. With her head tilting down again, she still managed to clarify her feelings as she intended.

“I do not wish for your hollow affections. I must warn you that I will recognize if the promises you make are empty.”

“There will be no such thing. I shall court you as you wish to be courted,” Loki said quickly.

Sigyn smiled at the ground. As a child, she had figured out that the craftier Loki was being, the slower he would speak. When he was blunt and truthful, he thought about his words less and spoke faster, more freely. It was very charming. Sigyn nodded slowly and joined his side once more. He took her arm again, which aggravated her new nervousness, for she knew he could feel her tension and shakiness. She feared that she would seem silly to him; the exhilaration of young love was hitting her hard now. Her initial scruples had not only been relieved, but seemed to reverse, and she struggled with her inner pride as she wished to grace Loki with all the affections she had felt for so long.

Sigyn used to grieve that Loki’s marriage to Angrboda was not fair, since he had no warning, no stance, and no love for her. For two and a half years, Sigyn wrecked her mind with thoughts that she could have prevented the unhappy marriage if she had _shown_ greater interest in Loki instead of fearfully hiding her feelings. Perhaps then, she thought, Odin would have arranged the marriage to be with her instead of Angrboda. However, Sigyn abandoned this guilt after the annulment, for the marriage not only revealed the crimes of the jötunn and saved Baldr and Nanna, but also created three beautiful children. Loki spoke openly of them to Sigyn, telling her of both the frightening transformations and their otherwise endearing behavior. He disliked leaving them with the nursemaids during his studies, so his and Sigyn’s walks in the city during their old lunch hour had changed to eating packed lunches in the nursery. Though Loki always grumbled about their heritage, he fawned over his three children. He would not permit Sigyn to hold his sons, for they changed unpredictably and were wont to bite in their shifted states. Yet she was allowed to hold Hela. She had witnessed a few transformations herself, and then understood Loki’s reasoning. One could not discern the shifted child from a wild animal. Regardless of the erratically occurring scares, the trio had won over Sigyn’s heart. Fenrir was a lively, rotund child with disorderly curly brown hair and clear blue eyes. He was, by far, the most vocal baby and gracelessly tumbled around on the floor during playtime. Fenrir liked to pull on his father’s ears and nose and preferred to crawl in his crib than to be held. Jörmungandr, in contrast, hardly ever rested his arms, which were often outstretched in request to be picked up. He studied everything and loved to play “peek-a-boo” with Sigyn. He had a fascinating capacity for eye contact, and would beam his hazel eyes at anyone in the room until they broke the gaze. Sigyn could already tell that he would look a lot like his father. Hela had Angrboda’s wide eyes –– dark brown under the spell as her mother’s had been. Hela was an amusing child, serious but not unhappy. She liked to play with Sigyn’s and Loki’s clothes, lifting up their capes and sticking her head under them or pulling at their sleeves. When Hela was in contact with her brothers, which was heavily monitored and guarded considering their situations, she had a habit of making frustrated gestures, as though she was trying to verbally converse with them even though she could not yet speak. Hela focused when spoken to, but scarcely made a coo. She was a poorer sleeper than her brothers, and consequently became cranky more often. When putting the children to sleep, Loki had given up tucking them in, for they never failed to kick their blankets off.

Sigyn enjoyed spending time with this part of Loki’s family more than with his intimidating father and boisterous brother. His children were strange and adorable, and Loki certainly showed that attractive smile of his more often when he was with them. Sigyn couldn’t ignore the intimacy she and Loki shared, and it made her feel fluttery that he wanted her to spend this time with him. Sigyn’s father, Frumolf, joked with her in the evenings when she came home, saying “Would you not rather be somewhere else?”

Her time with Loki had always been precious to her even though it was once very frequent. She felt that he had an interest in even her most mundane statements. She could speak with him all day, or spend time with him in perfect silence, and it was still comfortable. She seldom felt that he would judge her poorly for speaking her troubles, as he was able to do the same. There were many things that Sigyn would not even speak of with her best friends Lofn and Sjöfn. They knew not what discomfort was and considered her a neurotic.

Sigyn practiced magic with Loki every day, but it was never boring, for he always made light out of dull work. Instead of reading a lengthy book on the tactics of invisibility, Loki decided that he and Sigyn should make the books themselves disappear. Self-altering spells were the most comedic: Frigga returned from the alchemist lab to the patio once to find two white-bearded miniature Lokis instead of two focused students.

The end of their career as students accordingly involved most of the reading that the two had skipped out on previously. Sigyn had found it difficult to read when Loki persisted staring at her, and she became peeved that she could no longer stare at him without him noticing. Loki had a snarky comment for all of Sigyn’s actions then; he had started picking recklessly flirtatious conversations out of the air. His favorite move was to accuse her of making moves. “You have been staring at me instead of reading,” “You are sitting very close today,” and “Are you blushing on purpose?” were classic examples of his blatant words.

Oddly, Loki had gone quiet since Sigyn’s affirmation tonight. He was smiling at the stars as he brought Sigyn to the upper courtyard.

“Is this where you have been where I could not find you?” Sigyn asked.

“How touching –– you were looking for me,” Loki grinned, unlacing his arm and facing her. “No, I was not here. You have to be a bit daring to let me show you where I was.”

“Daring?”

Loki turned his back to Sigyn and stood at a halt.

“Grab my shoulders,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” Sigyn asked, confused.

“Trust me, Sigyn.”

Sigyn awkwardly placed her hands lightly on the backs of his shoulders and looked around the courtyard for any perplexed guard.

“Hm, you’ll fall if you don’t hold on tighter than that,” Loki stated.

Sigyn’s eyes were diverted to his arms, which were morphing into black, feathered wings. She yelped as she understood that he was shapeshifting to fly her somewhere and held his shoulders with a ruthless clutch. In less than a minute, she was lying on the back of a giant raven and trying not to attract attention by keeping her fearful screams in her throat. Sigyn closed her eyes as she felt the aerial twists and turns and the harsh wind flinging her hair around. Fortunately, the flight became peaceful after a few moments, and she looked at the scene which she could see without lifting her head from Loki’s back. The tip of the castle was beneath them, and lights from the city flickered against its golden walls. The sky was a rich navy ocean with brushed, milky-teal stars and yellow-green auroras. Sigyn knew that the night was warm, but at this speed, she now shivered from the cold wind rather than from nervousness. She screamed and shut her eyes again as Loki dove rapidly until they were only five feet off of the ground, zipping through rows of blooming red trees. Sigyn knew that place; it led to the docks of the Great Lake. The path edged with trees became the path edged with tall orange lanterns that continued onto the maze-like wooden docks. Loki then flew upward and diagonally for the entire length of the lake, heading toward the eastern mountains. His flight became slower and choppier as he descended to a sparse area of the mountain woodland. Sigyn expected an abrupt landing and was pleasantly surprised when she did not feel it at all. She slid off of the side of the shape-reverting Loki and observed the colorful new scenery. The entire city was visible from that point; it stood as a tall glowing gem in the inky ocean. Her view of the sky was much better when it was not moving; it looked as picturesque as a painting. The moons were lavender, and she could see their craters without straining her eyes. Mist crept round the lower area of the mountains, making a soft pool of light grey that was gradually moving over the lake. The air was balmy, and each little breeze brought the smell of wild mountain flora and freshly dewed trees.

“You made my neck sore,” Loki griped over Sigyn’s shoulder.

“You said I would fall if I didn’t hold tightly,” Sigyn said. “I certainly would have fallen off during that sudden descent at the docks!”

“I wanted to take you on the scenic route,” Loki said.

“It was all very beautiful –– this place is very beautiful,” Sigyn said excitedly. “This is where you go upon your return from battle?”

“Yes, it is the most peaceful place in all of Ásgard,” Loki said. “It drains the war from me.”

“I can see why. I have never been to the mountains. They are instantly relaxing,” Sigyn observed.

She noticed a large boulder several feet away, reshaped it into a dipped bench, and sat down. She motioned for Loki to join her, and he sat himself only inches apart.

“See, you were still able to perform spells this night without your fairy book,” he commented.

“Your tongue is cruel,” Sigyn replied, “but this is much better than going to the feast or practicing magic.”

“I am glad you think so. My only regret is that we cannot flaunt each other at the feast now,” he conceded.

“There will be countless other feasts,” Sigyn reasoned.

“We shall have one tomorrow,” Loki beamed.

“You joke.”

“Then we shall have one at the end of this week.”

Sigyn laughed and shook her head. Loki teasingly took hold of her arm and pulled her ear to his lips.

“You still think I am joking,” he whispered. “We shall have a splendid feast –– more splendid than this one –– and I can walk you all round the main court with my arm round your waist. And I will let you mess my hair at the table.”

“Not your faultless hair,” Sigyn jested, taking the opportunity to wrap some of it around her fingers. She heard herself giggling like a fool, which seemed to encourage more of Loki’s delightful nothings.

“Yes, and you can show me off to those romantic friends of yours and let them tease you about me. I will make sure that every man at that feast is jealous as you lay your head upon my shoulder.”

Sigyn played along and rested her head on Loki’s shoulder, still uselessly trying to get the nerves to go away. Loki slowly ran his fingers through the whole length of her hair and rested his hand on hers. His mind was constantly reminding him that this all should have been done sooner, that he could have been with her whilst they were still students, and they could have had each other already. He was eager to see exactly how open she was to this new contact, but tried carefully not to offend her again. He had a way with words, and she was elated to hear them. Neither was surprised at the instant tenderness they revealed, as it was a product of growing feelings at last released. Sigyn was timid and Loki was edgy, but it did not matter to the other. Being together had brought upon an enveloping relief, at first disguised between the anxiousness they both felt.

Loki began to speak as quiet as ever, so that even as Sigyn could feel his breath in her ear, she still had to focus to hear him.

“Then we can steal away back into the halls and feed each other things we stole from the banquet.”

“We’ll turn up missing at our own feast, Loki?” Sigyn whispered back, amused.

“It will be the best part of the whole celebration,” he coaxed, “when I’ll kiss you on the lips until you’d rather me kiss you elsewhere.”

“I’d rather not wait till the feast,” Sigyn said.


End file.
